When It Rained at Hembry Castle Chapter 17

Christmas at Hembry Castle

C

hristmas at Hembry was glorious. The same rooms that felt cavernous and cold the rest of the year now glowed gold and warm while the hearth fires waved holiday cheer to all who passed. Every surface in every room was covered with berried evergreens while mistletoe draped the walls and baskets of clove-wrapped oranges scented the air. The centerpiece of the castle was a 15-foot-tall tree lit with white candles and decorated with paper chains, strung candies, ribbons, and tinsel, presents from the village children. Even the Countess of Staton was softened by the glee of the season. She seemed almost dreamy as she floated about the castle, her wind blowing a few degrees less coolly. She entertained Daphne with memories of her sons’ first Christmastides, naming every gift her sons had ever presented her, every mischief they had found themselves in. In the darkness, descending early now, Lady Staton spent hours with Daphne by the hearth in the sitting room over steaming cups of tea and lemon cakes telling stories of Frederick’s antics as a boy, like the time he meant to give his nanny a frog as a holiday gift and the slimy thing leapt first into Nanny’s apron pocket and then down the front of her dress. Another time Lady Staton told Daphne how Prince Albert had brought his native country’s Christmas traditions, including Christmas trees, to Windsor Castle in 1841. “And if Queen Victoria had a Christmas tree,” the Countess said, “then all of England wanted a Christmas tree.”

“We have Christmas trees in America,” Daphne said. “They add such a festive feeling to the season. And the candlelight is so beautiful.” When Lady Staton looked surprised, Daphne said, “Yes, Grandma, even Americans are civilized enough to have Christmas trees.” To Daphne’s surprise, her grandmother laughed. A Christmas miracle indeed.

The day itself was snowy, and iridescent light filtered from the quilted gray sky. The castle was full, as it was every year, with family, friends, villagers, farmers, tradesmen, and anyone else important to the castle and its people. They had gathered together, as was the 250-year-old tradition, to eat and drink to their heart’s content, sing carols, and dance. Daphne saw two faces that made her particularly joyous: her Uncle Richard and Edward Ellis. Uncle Richard had done his disappearing act a few weeks before, leaving behind a cryptic message to her father about how he had pressing business but he would be back at Hembry for the holidays. When Richard turned up on Christmas Eve, everyone was so relieved they let his latest disappearing act pass without comment. Daphne saw her uncle smiling, easy, relaxed—as though some great weight, some strangulating albatross, had been removed from his neck once and for all and he moved all the lighter for it. She watched him mingle with his guests, chatting with the farmers and villagers, joking with the servants, dancing with his mother. Then he danced with a ten-year-old village girl, who positively beamed at the Earl of Staton.

Edward Ellis’ arrival had a very different effect. He arrived in the afternoon, apologizing for his tardiness, but he had wanted to spend some time that holiday with his parents and siblings in London. Mr. Ellis greeted his grandson warmly, then stood near the wall in his usual hunched manner with his hands behind his back. The butler contemplated the festivities over his round-rimmed spectacles and looked pleased with the turnout. Frederick clasped Edward’s shoulder and steered the young man toward the punch bowl.

“I’m so pleased you’ve come, Edward, as is Daphne.”

Frederick then excused himself to see about Mrs. Pearson, a village widow whose son, Joseph, had been ill. Frederick spoke to Mr. Hough, and the men approached the woman and her small boy, giving the lad some peppermint sticks and molasses taffy to put a smile on his face. Frederick led the boy to the sitting room where a pantomime put on by the village children was in full swing.

“Who is that?” Edward asked as he watched Frederick and the boy. Daphne explained, and Edward said, “That’s good of your father to take such an interest. And you.”

“At first, Joseph seemed better but then he was ill again. Mr. Hough isn’t sure what’s wrong with the poor boy. He doesn’t have a fever, and he doesn’t have the chills. He’s just ill. Mr. Hough left a note with directions for how to care for Joseph while he was gone, and we followed his instructions to the letter.”

“It must have worked. The boy looks well enough today.”

“He does, doesn’t he? Let’s hope that’s a good sign.”

Edward and Daphne joined the singing carolers:

God rest ye merry,

gentlemen

Let nothing you dismay

Remember, Christ, our Saviour

Was born on Christmas day

To save us all from Satan's power

When we were gone astray

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy

O tidings of comfort and joy.

When the song was done,

the string quartet began an upbeat tune and dancers filed into the center of the Great Hall to bow or curtsey at each other before taking off down the rows on their toes. It was a beautiful scene, Daphne thought, as family, villagers, and anyone else who wanted danced before the tall tree. Mothers danced with their sons and fathers danced with their daughters. The Earl of Staton danced with the baker’s wife and the peacock danced with the Marchioness of Braddleton. Edward laughed when his grandfather took his grandmother for a swing around the room. He nodded toward the dancers.

“Miss Meriwether, may I have this dance?”

Daphne curtsied, and she joined Edward with his grandparents and the others. As soon as she started moving she forgot everyone else. She forgot the holiday decorations and the table of delicious foods. She forgot the music and the very walls holding up the castle around her. She was with Edward, his left hand on her hip, his right hand holding hers. He looked nowhere but into her eyes, and she looked into his. His eyes were very green then, spring green, green like new life and green like hopes and dreams. She expected some comic comment from him as was his way, but he only smiled, and she smiled too. A space opened around them, and Edward twirled Daphne so her red velvet dress with the gold embroidered ruffles flared behind her. She felt as though she waltzed on air. When the music stopped and the others clapped, Edward and Daphne clapped too, though Daphne was still dizzy with the exhilaration.

When the next song began, Edward grabbed Daphne’s hand and led her to an empty seat near the hearth. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but then he looked from the dancers to the Christmas tree to his grandparents, who were close in conversation and glancing in Edward’s direction. Edward reached beneath his black frock coat, his green and red paisley cravat falling out from his green velvet waistcoat while he fumbled in his pocket. After an anxious moment, he pulled out a small green box. He looked around, and though the room was full everyone was so caught up in their own frivolity they didn’t notice the chocolate-haired, nervous-looking young man and the small box he handed to the golden-haired, glowing young woman.

“I wish you’d accept this in the spirit it’s intended—a holiday gift between friends.”

Daphne turned the box over in her hands. “May I?”

“Please.”

She gasped at the garnet earrings inside. True, perhaps the gems weren’t of the same quality as the heart-shaped ruby ring her grandmother had given her, but they were perfect—small, round, set in filigree gold.

“You’re not offended?” Edward asked.

“Offended? They’re beautiful. I love them. Come here.” Without thinking of the hundreds of people in the castle, without thinking of anything but the present she had for Edward, she took his hand and led him around the dancers to the ceiling-high tree. She kneeled by the white-lace skirt at the bottom and reached around the back, pulling out a gold-wrapped box with a sprig of holly tucked within the red bow.

“It’s from Papa and me.” She handed Edward the gift and waited with clasped hands while he opened it—a copy of A Christmas Carol signed by Mr. Dickens himself.

Edward turned the book from front to back to side to front again. “You must have contacts beyond the grave.”

“Not quite. My father and I found it in a bookshop on the Strand in London. As soon as I saw it I thought of you, the soon-to-be famous author. Your book will be out before long, and who knows? Maybe you really will be the next Mr. Dickens.” She pointed to the inside flap of the book. “In case you were wondering, that is definitely his signature. My father had it checked. Someone must have not known what they had.”

Edward stepped closer to her, closing the space between them. “I know exactly what I have.”

Daphne wanted him to look at her that way all the Christmas day, with an intensity she had never seen from him before. When the musicians played a waltz, Edward held out his hand. Daphne curtsied, and again he twirled her across the dance floor, and again her ruby-red dress fanned behind her, and again she felt lifted by the air.

This time, however, Daphne was aware of the others in the room, and she felt them following her every move. Her grandmother squinted at her while she held her ear trumpet in place to hear her Uncle Jerrold and his wife Hyacinth, who held her monocle close to her eye so she wouldn’t miss a detail. Her Uncle Richard leaned close to John Hough and whispered. Her father watched them too, exchanging sly looks with Uncle Richard and Mr. Hough. When the dance ended, Uncle Jerrold stepped forward.

“Excuse me, but I haven’t danced with my niece, and it is Christmas.”

Edward bowed and excused himself. He joined Frederick by the refreshment table, and Daphne saw that even from the distance Edward couldn’t take his eyes from her. Uncle Jerrold cleared his throat, shook his head, and cleared his throat again. Daphne guessed he was struggling for something to say, and she wouldn’t help him. He asked for the dance, so he gets to steer the conversation. Finally, after one more clearing of the throat, he said, “Hyacinth and I are returning to London after the new year.”

“I’m glad the boys could come. They must enjoy Hembry at Christmas time.”

“Certainly they do. It was always my favorite time of year.”

“I heard you’re doing some traveling to offer your support during the elections.”

“Oh, yes. One can’t do enough to help further our cause.”

“Which is?”

“The cause of tradition. The cause of the correct order of things.”

“You believe there’s a correct order, Uncle Jerrold?”

“Of course I do. People are born into their station in life, and it’s their duty to fulfill that station.” He looked in Edward’s direction as though he were jabbing the young man with the intensity of his glare.

“Surely everyone has their own talents and should be allowed to see those talents as far as they can.”

Jerrold shook his head. His features, always forlorn, looked as though they might drop from his face altogether. “I forget sometimes that you’re American.”

“I’m surprised. Grandma never does.” Jerrold didn’t dance as gracefully as Edward, and Daphne spent most of the polka trying not to trip over her uncle’s toes. His legs moved awkwardly, and Daphne checked to see if his boots were on the wrong feet. “Will you be traveling again soon?”

“Oh, yes. Richard is…”

Jerrold stopped moving as quickly as he stopped speaking, and Daphne nearly tumbled onto the dancers beside her.

“What is it, Uncle Jerrold? Do you and Uncle Richard have a trick card up your sleeves?”

Jerrold stepped away, his hands shaking. “How dare you insinuate that I’m up to something. An Englishman’s first priority is to his own home!”

Daphne said a silent thank you to the conductor when the music stopped. She curtsied at her uncle, then joined her father and Edward by the tree.

“What was that about?” Frederick asked.

“Uncle Jerrold was rattled by something, but I couldn’t tell you what.”

“He probably didn’t know what to make of you dancing with me.”

Edward smiled in that friendly way he had, and for the first time Daphne realized what she had done. By speaking so publicly to Edward, by dancing with him to the exclusion of everyone else but her uncle, by sharing their gifts in this public space, she had made a choice. Most likely everyone in the castle knew how she felt about Edward by now.

So let it be, Daphne thought. While Edward hasn’t made any declarations yet, she hoped that he felt the same for her as she did for him. She had to follow her heart, and her heart led to Edward Ellis.